


The Virgin Spring

by ifinkufreaky



Category: Vikings (TV)
Genre: Dubious Consent, F/M, Loss of Virginity, Multi, Threesome - F/M/M, and very persuasive, back when this was just a drabble prompt challenge, before it grew into this smut monstrosity, marauding vikings meet bored lonely christian girl, previously titled efflorescence, threesome with two brothers, what can i say these Viking boys are insatiable, what could go wrong?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-08
Updated: 2018-06-19
Packaged: 2019-05-04 04:07:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 18,998
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14584605
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ifinkufreaky/pseuds/ifinkufreaky
Summary: Left home alone after a fight with her parents, Elise lets two handsome young men into her cottage after they claim to need help. She quickly learns that these brothers are not who they pretend to be. Will she attempt to escape, or will she embrace the tempting ways of these Northmen?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So, the actors that play Ivar and Hvitserk did a Danish short film called Uro, and this is my attempt to mimic that story in the canon Vikings setting. Marco's performance carries an ominous weight that I just can't wait to see him bust out as Hvitserk. I don't speak Danish, so I can't promise I fully understand said plot, but consider this at least a tribute fic? Also I've changed the ending so that we can have a very smutty chapter 3.

She was so angry she could barely think. Her parents had left for the May Day festival shortly after sunrise – without her. It was the harshest, most evil punishment a girl on the cusp of womanhood could possibly go through. She’d rather they just whip her, but Father had said he’d have to give her a punishment that she might actually care about this time.

No chance to be chosen as the May Queen. No sweets, no catching up with friends from the other farms, no seeing how the boys had grown over the winter. Nor for her to show them how lovely she had become. Elise was positively itching to find a husband and get out of this wretched house, with nothing but the dour faces of her parents, and the goats and hens, for company.

She stepped outside and closed her eyes, tipping her face up to the midday sun. She felt just like she was a blooming flower, perfect petals stretching open, with no one around to appreciate it. She still wore the yellow dress she had been working on all winter, the one she had made for this festival, embroidering and tucking just so until it flattered her new womanly curves perfectly.  

The breeze shifted and an acrid scent hit her nostrils, nothing like the rich loam and soft flower nectar that surrounded her. She opened her eyes and noticed a strange haze on the horizon in the east. And a bulky figure with a strange gait walking her way.

Her first instinct was to go back into the house, but she lingered before reaching the doorway, spinning back to inspect the traveler. She realized it was a young man, with long, light hair, carrying another youth on his back. She shivered when she felt his eyes lock onto hers as she wavered in the yard. Was the other boy injured? Did they need help?

Caution won out and she whisked herself inside the farm house.

Elise found herself straightening her clothes, trying to keep her hands occupied as she imagined how close the strangers were getting. Would they come to her door, or would they pass right on by? Heavy steps approaching in the dirt of the yard answered soon enough.

A pounding fist rattled the door. “Hello?” his voice called. A soft voice, rich with quiet, masculine tones. “We are in some trouble. My brother needs help.”

If there was one thing Elise had always been told, it was never to let any strangers into the house while her parents were out. The latch inside the door was iron, the bar she had dropped behind her thick and sturdy. If she stayed silent, it would not be easy for these boys to force their way inside.

“Please,” the voice said. Elise stepped softly to the door. She could hear him breathing heavily on the other side. She put her eye to a crack between the boards and studied the stranger’s face.

He was handsome: fine features, a proud brow, a friendly tilt to his mouth. His hair shone almost like it was flecked with strands of gold in the light of the cresting sun. He could not have been much older than her. “Who are you?” No use in pretending no one was home; he had already seen her twirl and flee the yard.

“We came down from the Earl’s villa,” he said. Farther than the village where her parents and all her friends were celebrating. “They were attacked by raiders. My brother is hurt. Please, may we have refuge?”

She thought again of how unfair it was that her parents would keep her own youthful beauty, in her time of efflorescence, locked away here on festival day. Served them right that a fair-faced boy in need would come right to her threshold instead. This was fate. She opened the latch.

As soon as she cleared the heavy bar from the door her new friend was shouldering his way inside. He stepped into the center of the room and whirled around, taking in every detail in an instant. His brother’s dark, disheveled hair shadowed his scowling face, but Elise could see he was just as alert, bright blue eyes piercing into every corner of the single-room structure she called home.

Before even setting his brother down, the stranger strode over to the hanging fabric that screened her parents’ bed, whipping it back with one arm. “You are alone?” he asked. When he turned back to her, a crooked smile tugged at the corner of his lip. In the dimness of her cottage, his hair no longer looked so gilded. The friendly ease she thought she had seen in his features was bleeding into something else.

Elise started to wonder if she had made a mistake. And with that anxiety, came a surge of strength. She never liked people to see her fear. She drew herself up proud, lifted her chin to meet his eyes fully. “It is only me.”

“You don’t live by yourself,” the dark-haired one said, eyeing the bowls she had yet to clean out from the morning meal sitting on the table.

“No,” she admitted. “My parents will be home soon.” She tossed her hair, tried not to think about how often the festival beer led the pair of them to not bother coming home until well after dawn the next day.

“Will they.” The stranger’s eyes held hers like he could see straight through her artifice. She glared right back at him, until he exhaled something like a laugh and turned to look at his brother with raised brows.

They seemed to come to some sort of conclusion as the dark-haired brother tilted his head with a shrug.

“Where can I set him down?”

Something must be very wrong with that one’s legs, she thought, that he couldn’t even limp alongside his brother down the road. Elise’s kind heart flared and she waved immediately toward her parents’ large bed. “He would be most comfortable here.”

As his brother got him settled, Elise took the time to study them further. She hadn’t noticed before that they wore armor under their cloaks. These were not just peasant boys. They must have been part of the fighting they had mentioned.

“Let me tend his wound,” Elise offered, partially out of a hostess’s obligation, and partly to get more information.

“I have already dressed it,” the lighter-haired one said curtly, shooing her away and covering his brother’s legs quickly with a blanket.

The dark-haired one glared up at her. “Water,” he croaked. He did not appear to be in very much pain.

She did not miss the wicked grin the two of them exchanged as she bent her head politely and turned to fetch it. She felt her cheeks flush at the way their eyes traveled over the curve of her waist. And though she all but fled to the door to draw water from the large barrel outside, she found she liked the excitement that their interest set tingling in her limbs.

“How is it that such a beautiful girl was left here, all alone?”

She jumped at the sound of his voice; she had not heard the fair-haired one follow her outside. He stepped closer than was polite, eyes brimming with unfamiliar thoughts as they studied the terrain of her face. Elise felt flattered and nervous and curious all at once. He leaned one arm against the wall and made no offer to help her draw the water. “My parents left me behind,” she explained, sullenly.

Her companion drew his brows together and clucked his tongue softly in sympathy. “A shame. Fortunate for us, though.” He glanced up the road, the way they had come, then brought those piercing eyes back to her again.

Elise pulled the full bucket up, trying not to let the effort of its weight show in her posture or face. “Your brother, are you certain he doesn’t need anything else?”

“Just a rest,” the handsome stranger promised. “We could both use the rest.” He was inching closer, the leather of his concealed armor creaking just a little. “The comforts of a woman’s hearth and home.” His hand was coming toward her face, his eyes flicking down to her lips.

Elise stepped back. Her feet danced around the edge of the young man’s reach, carrying her toward the door. “Then come back in, and take your rest before you continue on your way,” she giggled at him. Her heart was beating terribly fast. Part of her was leaping with joy at his apparent interest in kissing her, while another voice was screaming at her to have more sense. Her guests were disguised as peasant boys but they were probably dangerous men, and she should get them out of her home as quickly as she could.

She set the bucket down and found a cup to fill for the injured brother, tingling with the awareness of his heavy gaze on her as she dipped it into the cool water. The light shifted in the room as the other one filled the doorway, coming in after her. “Raiders at the villa, how terrible,” she said, repeating his earlier story, “and on May Day! Were the men even ready to face them? How terrifying.”

But she did not think these boys were terrified. They looked to each other and she caught them exchanging a quick smile. “They were quite unaware… until they noticed the hall and half the outbuildings burning,” the one on the bed said. He flicked his hand to beckon her over with the water. She heard the other close the door, dropping the heavy bar with a thud and settling the latch.

She held the cup out and the dark-haired boy seized her hand along with it. “Sit. What is your name?” His fingers were rough with calluses, but warm, and strong. He wore bracers like an archer might, that covered his palms. These boys were soldiers, warriors. They might be young, might have just lost a fight to the Northmen, but they weren’t peasants. Fighting men were entitled to ask just about anything of her. She would have to keep her wits about her if she was going to have half a chance.

“Elise,” she answered, setting her hips on the very edge of the bed, as far away as the boy’s grip on her hand would let her. She sat next to his legs but was careful not to touch them. His face lit up at the sound of her name, but the warmth of his smile seemed false. This one was handsome too, but nothing could hide the cruelty emanating from his soul. “And what do I call you?” she asked bravely. If she let them control the conversation, all would be lost.

The fair-haired one stepped close, shadow in his eyes telling her that he didn’t like her sitting so close to his brother any more than she did. “Hvitserk,” he said, touching his chest.

Elise frowned. That did not sound like any Christian name she had ever heard. The other glared up at Hvitserk like he was disappointed in him, then back at her like he was measuring her soul. “Ivar,” he finally said.

A chill crept down that back of her spine, as the facts began to connect in different ways. As soon as Ivar released her hand to draw the cup of water to his lips, she stood up. Hvitserk was very close - she had to move toward him to get away from the bed - and he did not retreat an inch. His smile looked false to her now, too.

“You must be hungry,” she said, giving herself an excuse to twist around him and cross the room. “Let me share some bread with you before you continue on your way.” Two sets of eyes, green and blue, followed her every movement as she unwrapped a loaf and sliced it through with her belt knife. Their attention made her want to shiver. It was what she had been wanting, to hold the interest of some attractive young men, on this day and in this dress. But it felt different from how she had imagined. Probably because these two were not just village boys.

“Your accent is strange,” she commented, not daring to look up, “how did you come to be in the Earl’s service?”

Hvitserk’s arm brushed her elbow as he answered her. “Kind of just fell into it,” he answered. Ivar snickered from the bed. “Here, let me help you with that, Elise.” She did like the way his tongue twisted the sound of her name into something exotic. His large hand, thick with calluses, closed over hers on the handle of the knife. His other palm slid over her lower back. The sensation was so deliciously distracting that she gave up possession of the tool without even thinking about it.

Elise stepped to make room for him to finish cutting the bread, but that strong hand at her back held her close instead. She looked up in surprise, and felt instantly hypnotized by his lidded eyes, looming above her upturned face. A sharp thrill ran through her as she recognized his desire.

“Such a good girl you are, to treat two poor soldiers so hospitably,” he murmured, angling his face closer and closer to hers. She couldn’t quite bring herself to offer her mouth to him, so he moved in toward her ear, dropping his voice to a whisper. “As kind as she is beautiful.” The last word tickled her cheek, his lips were so close, and his hand kneaded the curve of her waist softly.

She felt dreamlike, and warm all over. She was distantly aware of Ivar rummaging through her parents’ things by the bedside. “This is pretty,” he said loudly, interrupting Hvitserk’s lips just as they started to ghost over her neck.

Elise stiffened, turned her head sharply to see that Ivar held up her mother’s necklace, the one with the smooth agate beads and the single garnet at the center. She only wore it on the most special occasions, handed down from a time when her ancestors had more wealth and importance than just this lonely farm.

Ivar shook it, making the blood-red pendant glimmer in the light streaming through the high windows under the eaves. “Is this all you have? The only treasure?”

She frowned, pushed Hvitserk away so she could snatch the bauble out of Ivar’s hand. His fingers seemed reluctant on her hip but he let her go. Elise stormed over to the bed, but Ivar caught the necklace up in his fist and pulled it away when she tried to take it back. “That’s my mother’s, don’t touch it!”

“I am only looking at it,” Ivar said petulantly, but he made no move to give it back to her, and only grinned in her face when she held her open hand out, demanding its return. His tongue pushed out behind his teeth as he laughed at her discomfort.

She whirled and looked to Hvitserk, eyes imploring him to intervene.

The fair brother tucked Elise’s knife into his own belt and stepped closer with another friendly smile, but said nothing.

“Are you just going to rob me now?” Elise barked at him.

Hvitserk’s hands came up, palms out, like he was soothing an angry dog. “He said he’s just looking at it.” They shared a glance and Ivar nodded, fake sincerity plastered all over his face. “My brother likes beautiful things. Do you have anything else here, for him to look at?”

Elise’s hands came to fists at her sides, palms itching to get that necklace back but not willing to climb onto the bed to fight for it. “No. We’re just farmers.” She tossed her head, suddenly self-conscious. “The second most beautiful thing here is the rooster.”

Ivar’s lip twitched at her joke; Hvitserk just used it as an opportunity to step close to her again. “The most beautiful thing here is you,” he intoned, tucking a stray lock of hair behind Elise’s ear.

Ivar rolled his eyes and barked something at Hvitserk in a language Elise couldn’t understand. “ _Not even any decent treasure. We should just go.”_

Hvitserk responded in the same language; the syllables sounded less harsh on his tongue. _“Smarter to wait a little longer. And just look at her, brother. She has at least one other treasure_. _We can have some fun while we wait._ ”

Elise shrank away from them both, unable to avoid the truth any longer. “You’re Northmen, aren’t you.”

“I was wondering how long it would take you to realize,” Ivar mocked.

Hvitserk squared his posture. He was between her and the door, which he had been so careful to bar earlier. He watched her face like he was waiting to see what she would do.

“And you don’t work for the Earl.”

Hvitserk’s eyes turned foxlike, calculating his next best move. Elise’s mind was racing to do the same. He shook his head ‘no’ in answer to her question, his hands spread wide and probably ready to grab her if she made a move for the door.

If she was going to escape, this would not be her moment. Where would she run to, anyway? She took a deep breath and lifted her chin. “I’ve always wanted to meet a Northman,” she said casually.

Hvitserk’s lip twisted into a surprised smile. “Is that so?” His body relaxed just a fraction.

“Yes,” she said, forcing a brave smile to her lips, “I have heard so many exciting things about your people.” It was partially true. Their invasion had sparked many rumors, and Elise had devoted many a stray thought to the strange heathens in her land.

“Have you.” Ivar gazed up at her like he knew she was putting on an act, but was fascinated by it all the same. “Tell us.”

“Everyone is afraid of you. You worship devils. You sin without remorse, like you never ate of the fruit in the garden, and don’t know any better than to follow your basest urges.”

Ivar smirked. “And that is why you wanted to meet us?”

Elise blushed. That wasn’t really what she meant at all, but when he looked at her like that, when Hvitserk stepped close enough to loom over her again-- something tightened pleasantly in her belly, mingling with her fear and turning it into something else. “No,” she all but whispered, though her body angled in half an invitation, “I wanted to know… is it true that your women learn to fight?” She said it in answer to Ivar, but on the last word Elise let her eyes flit up to meet Hvitserk’s, wondering if her lashes had fluttered the way that her friend had tried to teach her last summer.

Hvitserk smiled and let his hands help themselves to her hips again. “Some of them do. Those that want to stand in the shield wall.”

Elise squirmed a little, both excited and annoyed by the clutch of his hands. He seemed to take the movement as flirtation, hooded eyes going playful as he tried to pull her body against his. She let herself indulge in the feeling of a man’s stomach flush with hers for just a moment, then twisted from his grip, sitting again next to Ivar.

Sitting felt better. Her head was spinning so hard it was getting light. What had they been talking about? “Women who can be warriors,” she marveled softly. That was something truly interesting. “Do they get more respect? Can they make decisions without needing their fathers, or husbands?”

Hvitserk’s brows creased; she wasn’t sure if it was in reaction to her pulling away, or the nature of her question. He looked to Ivar, who also mused for a moment, as if he had never thought of such a question.

“I suppose many shieldmaidens do live a more independent life,” Ivar replied. His eyes sharpened on her face again. “Does that appeal to you? Christian women are not allowed such choices, are they?”

Elise sighed. “We are not.” She did not turn her head when she felt Hvitserk settle onto the bed beside her.

“Then your ways are inferior,” Hvitserk said. His hand brushed over the back of hers, fingers trying to twine in between her own. “You could come with us,” he offered.

She saw Ivar scowl before she swiveled her head to face his brother. “What?” Her hand drew back, but only an inch, and then she let Hvitserk press their palms together.

The handsome boy shrugged, smiling his charming smile at her again. It was lopsided and unassuming, like they were sharing a secret. “Maybe you’d be happier in our camp. It’s not far from here.”

In all her daydreams for how she’d escape life on this farm, Elise had never imagined sleeping in a tent and serving barbarians. Another chill ran down her spine, as she began to appreciate what exactly she had allowed to cross her threshold. She took a steadying breath, drawing her body up straighter. “What are you really doing here?”

Hvitserk shrugged. “It was supposed to be just scouting. Ivar wanted to check out the walls.”

Ivar growled something, leaning forward on the bed. _“Hvitserk, what are you doing?”_

“She likes us, Ivar. Let’s just tell her.” He refused to back down under his brother’s glare. His fingers played idly with hers as he spoke again in his own language. _“She knows who we are. If we don’t take her with us, we’re just going to have to kill her anyway, right?”_

Elise couldn’t tell which of them was actually in charge, the way they glared at each other. She shifted subtly toward Hvitserk as the two stared each other down. Whatever he had said at the end there seemed to convince his brother, however, who abruptly flipped his eyebrows in concession and settled back against her parents’ headboard again. “We ended up with the perfect opportunity to burn the guardhouse,” Ivar continued the story, eyes glittering in self-satisfaction as he confessed to her. “After we set fire to the Earl’s hall.”

“But someone saw us,” Hvitserk added. “We had a head start down the road, but we know the soldiers are looking for us.”

“So instead of waiting for them to catch up…” Elise said, as Hvitserk nodded.

“We decided to take shelter, and let them pass right on by.” Hvitserk pulled her hand up to his mouth, kissed her knuckles where they lay laced between his own. “How fortunate that we found such a gracious and becoming hostess.”

She should be terrified that a godless heathen was looking at her like this. But she thrilled at his lips, so gentle on her skin. “You are here to murder and steal from my people,” she said softly. “I should run out that door and scream until the soldiers come back and find you.”

She made no move to actually get up.

Ivar answered her first. “Is that really what you want, Elise?”

Before she had a chance to answer, booted feet were heard thudding in the yard, the creak and jangle of armored men approaching the door. Hvitserk shot to his feet, and Ivar yanked Elise back onto the bed with him. One arm wrapped her chest like a band of steel, pinning her body, while the hand of the other clapped over her mouth, suppressing her surprised yelp.

“Not one word, unless we tell you,” the Viking growled low in her ear. Hvitserk took one step toward the door, which he had already barred securely. He paused and turned back to Elise, eyes drilling into hers, demanding compliance. Desperate for it. She didn’t think she was imagining the pleading underneath his silent threat.

The shutters were all closed as well; no one could check inside the house without breaking something. Perhaps they just wanted her to stay silent and pretend no one was home.

A heavy fist rattled the door. “Open up,” a gruff voice commanded.

Ivar’s limbs tightened around her. Elise’s back was flush against his chest, and she could feel his anxious breathing against her neck. There were more than two sets of boots stomping around in the yard; the Vikings must have hidden because they knew they were outnumbered.

Hvitserk was still staring her down, knuckles white as he squeezed the handle of her belt knife. Other than that, they hadn’t seemed to be armed either. If Elise called out to the soldiers, these two wouldn’t stand much of a chance.

“You invited us in,” Ivar whispered in her ear. “You offered us aid.” His thumb stroked her cheek even as the rest of his fingers wrapped over her face, pressed her mouth closed. “Surely you know the sacred laws of hospitality.”

She nodded, ear brushing his cheek with the movement. It was bad luck to allow any harm to befall a guest. Hvitserk’s heavy gaze implored her to agree, though he likely couldn’t have heard what Ivar just said.

Another knock on the door, louder and longer than the first. “Anyone home?” The voice sounded impatient.

She stirred, an idea forming. Ivar made a soothing noise in her ear and only held on tighter. Elise twisted her head toward him, trying to catch his eye.

“Break the lock,” another, calmer voice said from outside. “Take a look, just to be sure.”

Adrenaline surged. Hvitserk pointed her tiny knife toward the door, while Ivar looked around for someplace to hide. Elise yanked her face free from his smothering hand. “Wait just a minute!” she called, doing her best to sound affably annoyed. “Trust me,” she hissed at Ivar, and moved to rise from the bed.

Hvitserk strode over and made Ivar let her go. His sharp gaze signaled her to do whatever it was she needed to do, and warned her not to betray them all at once. Elise immediately crouched and whipped an extra blanket from under the bed, throwing it over the bedridden Viking to the chin. “Hold on,” she called loudly again, like any housewife that hadn’t been expecting guests. “Just tidying up!” She grabbed one of her father’s tunics, the mud-spattered one she hadn’t gotten around to cleaning yet.

“Never mind all that,” the first voice growled from outside. “We’re here on the Earl’s business. Open up and just let us take a look around.”

Elise huffed dramatically. “No need to be rude,” she called back. She stripped off Hvitserk’s cloak and shoved the old tunic over his head. She kicked his cloak under the bed as he settled the uglier garment over himself, which neatly hid his leather jerkin.

She reached down and took firm hold of Ivar’s hair, ignoring his outraged scowl as she hastily mussed it. “You’re sick,” she ordered under her breath, “and barely awake.” She pulled the extra blanket up over his chin.

Then she turned back to Hvitserk, took one more steadying breath as she stared into his wide eyes. “Let me do the talking,” she whispered as she stepped up to him. “Your accent will give you away.” Then she took his hand boldly in her own and drew him to the door.

There were four soldiers in the small yard in front of her home. Two were crowded up by the doorway, ready to press in as soon as she released the latch. They stopped up short when they were unexpectedly faced with a young couple, arm-in-arm. “What’s all this bother then?” Elise demanded, drawing herself up like a woman at the market preparing to haggle. “What are you doing on my farm?”

The taller soldier doffed his helm to her and Elise suppressed a smile of relief. “We’re tracking down some men that may have come through here. Vikings, ma’am. Dangerous heathens.”

She crossed herself. “God protect us,” she said loudly. Then she elbowed Hvitserk until he mumbled something under his breath and clumsily repeated her gesture.

“Did you see them?” the other soldier demanded.

“We haven’t been outside in a bit,” Elise replied. “Didn’t notice anything unusual.”

He turned to the other men ranging around the yard. “Check the barn,” he ordered, then turned back to staring Elise and Hvitserk down. “We’ll come in, and have a look around.”

Elise grit her teeth like this annoyed rather than terrified her, then stepped back from the door, pulling Hvitserk with her. “Be quiet about it, if you would. His sick brother’s here, sleeping in the back. I think the poor thing might have a touch of the plague.”

The more aggressive soldier visibly shuddered on her final word. Good. His feet stopped short of the bed and he peered down at Ivar without making any move to disturb the blankets. The boy gave a low, tortured moan and rolled to face away from them.

It took almost no time at all for the two men to sweep the one-room house for any potential heathen hiding spots. Hvitserk gave Elise’s hand a quick squeeze as they stood still and let the soldiers range around them. She wondered if he intended threat or comfort with the gesture. She squeezed right back. Her heart beat against her chest like a trapped animal, and she still was not quite sure why she was doing this for them. They were not her people. But when the ranking soldier stopped in front of them again, she clutched Hvitserk’s arm closer to herself.

He looked up at the tall, fair youth. Aside from the roughspun clothes, he didn’t look much like a peasant. “Why do you let your wife do all the talking, eh?” the soldier grunted at him.

Hvitserk gave an entirely guileless smile, and shrugged. “She likes it that way,” he said softly, thankfully enunciating well enough that his accent wasn’t too bad.

“He knows I’m smarter than him,” Elise interjected, playing the browbeating wife. “Left to himself, this one’s a damn fool. Sometimes I think his brother isn’t the only simpleton in the family…”

The soldier scoffed at her, looking at Hvitserk like he was waiting for the man to raise a hand to her and put his wife in her place. Hvitserk just gave another fool-headed smile, and wrapped his arm tight around Elise’s shoulders. “She married me for my looks,” he said proudly. “I do whatever makes her happy. Because when she’s happy…” he waggled his brows suggestively at the other men.

Elise twisted in his arm and whacked him across the chest. The soldiers looked uncomfortable, perhaps even a bit disgusted at the boy’s lack of pride. Good. Anything to get them walking back out that door.

“You didn’t go to the festival today?” the soldier continued, eyeing Elise’s bright dress.

She huffed, channeling a frustration she didn’t have to fake. “I had to tend to this one,” she said, waving her arm in Ivar’s direction. “His sickness is getting worse. But we thought we might sneak out after he fell asleep.”

As if on cue, Ivar start producing a truly disgusting-sounding cough. His shoulders shook with it, and then he flailed on the bed, hand reaching out to grab the closest soldier as he appeared to be choking in his own spittle. Even his eyes looked feverish as his unnatural blue only half-focused on the intruders.

The soldiers both jumped, and the commander started backing toward the door almost immediately.

“Is that all you want, then?” Elise asked, arms crossed. “I need to care for my brother-in-law.”

Now it was the soldiers’ turn to cross themselves. “May God have mercy on him,” he said with wide eyes. “And on you.” He suppressed another shudder. All men feared the plague, but this one seemed particularly rattled by it. He waved for his subordinate. “We will be continuing down the road. Send your man after us if you see anything suspicious,” he instructed, already stepping out the door by the time his instructions were done.

Elise went to Ivar’s side with a fresh cup of water, keeping up the ruse until she was sure all the soldiers were gone. She couldn’t stop herself from grinning as she leaned over him, however, terribly pleased with the effectiveness of the performance. She held his head like he was really an invalid and put the cup to his lips.

Ivar’s eyes slid to the door as he drank, and as soon as the second soldier left he burst into a conspiratorial smile as well. He had found that _fun._ And Elise realized with a start that she had too, as much as her heart was still beating in her throat. Their eyes lingered on each other’s in some odd moment of recognition.

“Not just any farm girl,” he mused softly, and Elise felt her face warm at even such slight praise. Ivar looked away first, checking on Hvitserk by the door. “Tell him not to stand there so long,” he said, his countenance collapsing into its usual scowl. “He looks suspicious, watching them leave like that.”

She glanced over at the other Viking, leaning with his arms crossed against one door post. “Any frightened peasant would do that,” Elise argued back. “It would be more suspicious if he didn’t keep an eye on what they were doing around his barn.”

Ivar tipped his head to the side, as if it hurt him to admit she had a point. His eyes roamed over her face, like he had only just now decided she was worth his interest. She had thought his earlier, more callous gaze was unsettling enough, but this one was even more intense. She felt herself flush hotter under his silent inspection until she just had to tear herself away, stepping over to Hvitserk just as Ivar had asked.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did decide to deviate from the actual story progression of Uro. We still have the silly/sexy dance number, and Elise expecting Hvitserk/Marco to save her from Ivar/Alex, but... the ending will be much more fun and satisfying. And by that I mean smuttier.

The soldiers were leaving. Those that had broken off to inspect the barn had rejoined their commander and, true to his word, after a brief report they seemed to be forming up to head back to the main road.

The lead soldier looked back at the farmhouse one last time. Hvitserk snaked his arm around Elise’s waist, pulling her close to him as he nodded a polite farewell. She expected the tall Viking to immediately pull her back into the house now, but he didn’t move. She held her breath, half-expecting one of the Earl’s men to realize something wasn’t right, to turn and rush them with more accusations.

And shouldn’t that be what she wanted? But the thumping in her chest matched the one in Hvitserk’s; she could feel it where their ribs pressed together. If she dared to rest her head against his chest, she would even hear it. Something in her soul was thirsting for what these boys had brought into her life.

They watched the soldiers until their backs disappeared over the rise in the field to the west. Only then did a triumphant giggle burst from Elise’s chest. She turned her face up to see a matching grin on Hvitserk’s face. “It _worked,_ ” she marveled. Her relief felt almost giddy, and her feet danced a little with the energy of it. Hvitserk’s body followed along with hers, his head bending closer and closer.

“That was brilliant,” he complimented, long arms gathering her towards him. She expected him to thank her, but he didn’t; just regarded her with a wry smile and playful eyes. “Kiss me,” he said instead.

He had guided her out view of the doorway; the outer wall of the cottage giving them privacy from Ivar’s eyes. She was alone with him again. The vulnerability of her position slammed back into Elise’s awareness, left her body tingling as Hvitserk parted his lips and leaned in closer to her, a lock of golden hair falling over his face.

She reached up and impulsively combed it away with two fingers, which he took for consent, increasing the speed at which his face was crashing toward hers. Elise found she didn’t really want to stop him, even leaned in a little as the Viking’s lips brushed against her own.

It was quick, and almost shy, and there was tension in the breathy laugh that escaped his mouth before he pressed it over hers again, more boldly this time. Elise pursed her lips a little more as she tried not to be distracted by the way her head was spinning. A kiss on May Day, from a handsome stranger. Just as she had so desperately hoped for. Hvitserk’s lips were soft and searching, and his arms scooped her up, cradled her against him.

He made a noise that made something low in her stomach clench, masculine and full of intentions. Elise felt like her knees were getting a little weak. It was delicious and entirely overwhelming, and the kiss just went on and on, his lips playing softly along her own.

“Are they gone now?” Ivar’s voice called from inside the open door.

Elise seized the opportunity to pull away, focus on re-learning how to breathe. And to decide what on earth she should be doing next about this pair of heathen invaders. “They are,” she said as she ducked back into the doorway, trailing Hvitserk’s arms after her. There was still a foolish grin on her face as she met Ivar’s seemingly-permanent scowl.

“So your ruse worked,” he said, sounding thoughtful. “That was quick thinking there,” he praised, “though I do not understand why you were so willing to help us.” His eyes were on Hvitserk’s hand, chasing her hip as she shimmied away from him.

“I told you, Ivar,” Hvitserk said breezily, “she likes us.” He flashed her one more cheeky grin before giving up trying to touch her for a moment, turning back to close and bar the door again.

“Is that it, Elise?” Ivar asked, watching her carefully. “You helped us because you like us?” He smiled like he thought he was getting something out of her.

There were implications there she wouldn’t admit to. “Maybe,” she said, tossing her hair. She backed up into the kitchen table and pulled herself up to sit on top of it, swinging her legs girlishly to make her yellow skirts billow. She felt… powerful, after that. _She_ was the one that had saved them. The dangers of two lusty young men in her home felt less imminent.

Ivar shifted on his elbow, twisting in the bed to gaze at Elise more squarely. “You betray your own people, providing us shelter,” he pointed out. Hvitserk was drawing close, ready to loom over her again, and she was sure his roaming hands would not be too far behind. She kept kicking at her skirts, ostensibly just amusing herself but also forcing him to keep his distance. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to feel his lips again, she just… wasn’t sure what would happen next if she let him.

Elise shrugged in response to Ivar’s comment. “What has the Earl ever done for me?”

Ivar smirked. “So you are saying you require a reward, then. You help those that help you.”

She smirked, twisting a strand of her own flaxen hair between her fingers. “Well, now that you mention it....If you are the fearsome Vikings that have been sacking all the keeps and churches from here to the sea, maybe you’ve got some treasure to spare for a helpful farm girl?”

Ivar gave her a dark smile, like he appreciated her boldness, but he shook his head ‘no.’

“We disguised ourselves as peasants,” Hvitserk said, stepping close to her side, out of range of her feet. He leaned in so his body neatly blocked her view of Ivar. “We have not carried anything of value with us.” His fingers traced her cheek, then followed a loose strand of her hair down to her collarbone. A fresh thrill caught Elise’s breath in her throat as his fingertips played with the thin line of creamy skin framed by the embroidered neck of her dress. “There is plenty of gold at our camp, though,” he continued, voice dropping softer and softer. His words were seeming less and less important. “Plunder like you’ve never seen.” He bent in to kiss her in the same place, his hand stealing over the swell of one breast before sliding down her belly. Elise closed her eyes, unable to make herself move away like she knew she should.

“Yes, our camp,” Ivar said, louder than necessary. “Which we should be getting back to, now.” Elise opened her eyes; Ivar was glaring at his brother’s back and moving to lift himself from the bed. But wasn’t he too injured to walk? “It would be best to gather our army and strike that villa while it is still in chaos, do you not agree Hvitserk?”

Sudden disappointment stabbed Elise in the back of the throat. Would they leave so soon? Was the fun already over? “Would it not better to wait a bit longer,” she heard herself say, “let those soldiers get a little further down the road?”

Hvitserk straightening up from Elise’s chest but kept his hands around her waist as he looked over at his brother. “She speaks sense. Better to wait.” Then he swooped back in and nuzzled at her neck, the move so sudden it made her gasp and squirm a little.

Ivar flinched, and then Elise could see the real reason for his impatience. What else was he supposed to do, lay in the bed and watch his brother finish seducing her? If she wasn’t entertaining both of them, Ivar would be sure to demand that they leave. She swiveled away from Hvitserk again, hopping off the table and picking up the forgotten bread. “You haven’t even eaten yet,” she reminded them. She thrust one slice into Hvitserk’s hands and then stepped across the room to deliver another to his brother.

Ivar accepted it with another smirk. “And I suppose you’ll be expecting repayment for this kindness too,” he accused her, almost playfully.

Elise clucked her tongue at him. “I am just being hospitable.”

“And I wonder what else comes with your hospitality?” Ivar mused, reaching out to grab at her backside with a cheeky thrust of his jaw.

Elise smacked him on the shoulder, pushing him back, but she couldn’t bring herself to frown at him as a fresh rush of excitement ran through her. She hadn’t thought she had that kind of interest from him, too…

There was a faint crease between Hvitserk’s brows as he stepped closer to them, munching on the crust of his bread. “So what was this festival you wanted to go to today, Elise? Is that where your parents are?”

Elise nodded, shrinking away from both of them, and the bed, at the mention of her parents. A reminder of how improper all of this was. “It’s called May Day. You don’t celebrate that?”

Hvitserk cocked his head to the side in an approximation of friendliness. “We have a spring festival too, but that’s not what we call it. Tell us about yours.” He glanced at Ivar. “We can talk, to pass the time.”

Likely the wisest choice. “There is a church service, and a feast for a saint, of course,” Elise began, eyes flitting between the pairs of blue and green that both regarded her raptly, “but the real fun is decorating the May pole. They attach ribbons to the top, and the girls each take hold of one. And then we dance, in a circle around the pole, and the ribbons wind around and around, weaving together according to our movements. Later, the most beautiful and graceful girl is voted to be the May Queen.”

“You are sad not to be there,” Hvitserk observed. Elise realized how her voice had dropped as she continued the description.

“Would it cheer you up to show us the dance?” Ivar suggested. Hvitserk looked down at him in surprise, but his eyes were eager when he lifted them back to Elise’s face.

Another improper suggestion. But what did it matter anymore? And she had practiced the steps so many times, getting ready for this day….Elise stepped back, a shy smile pulling at her lips as she looked behind her to make sure she had enough room.

Hvitserk stepped forward. “You said you dance… around a pole?” Elise nodded, eyes searching the room for something that could substitute. “I’ll be your pole,” he said, eyes flashing at her as he pushed a chair back and stepped into the center of the room.

Elise giggled. He was quite tall. She stepped next to him, and put her feet in the first position. “Be a good pole and put your arms up over your head, then,” she smirked at him. “And don’t move.”

Hvitserk grinned as he obliged, looking down at her like he was expecting all this silliness to be worth something later. Elise ignored that, taking one deep breath and centering her stance. Looking out of the corner of her eye, she saw Ivar leaning forward, already laughing at his brother’s position.

She let one arm float up gracefully, pretending to grasp a ribbon in the air next to Hvitserk’s head. She bent her knees and began the rocking steps. Her self-consciousness dampened the usual pace, leading her to move in half time as she started the circle between Hvitserk and the bed. She had not quite appreciated before this moment, how much these movements put her body on display. All her prior daydreams had revolved only around the way her bright skirt would billow when it was time to twirl.

This time, she was very aware of the way her hips dipped and waggled, the way her floating arms lifted her breasts. Particularly to Hvitserk’s eyes, standing as close as he was in his act as the pole. He looked ridiculous with both his arms stretched straight above his head, but he was getting an eyeful down the scooped neck of her dress, as was surely his plan.

The first twirl in the dance came when she was behind Hvitserk’s back. As she spun her dress hit him in the legs, they were so close, but when she moved into the next part of the dance it was Ivar’s eyes that made her blush. His gaze was intense from under his heavy brows, watching her step out from behind his brother, and he did not bother to hide at all how much he liked looking at her body. She felt a warm pulse between her legs, and giggled nervously as she almost missed her next step under the weight of those eyes.

She completed one more turn and then stopped with a flourish before the bed, feeling called to Ivar by that look. “Do your Viking women not dance this way?” she teased, rolling her hips one more time for him. Christian women did not dance this way either, it had been an accident of slowing the tempo. But when she saw the reaction she had been getting…

Ivar smiled back at her, a little more convincing than his previous attempts at the expression. “Our women have many graceful dances,” he said with a glimmer in his eye, “but occasionally I do also enjoy watching Christian girls stumble around.”

Embarrassment bit at Elise, deflating that feeling of power over these boys that she had been imagining she held. She stepped back and bumped into Hvitserk, his arms coming down around her shoulders.

“Don’t listen to Ivar,” he soothed into her ear. “He has always been a bitter boy.” He pulled Elise’s back snug against his chest. “I like how you dance. Very graceful. I am certain you would have been chosen as the queen.”

Ivar continued to smirk at her. Something about the challenge in his eyes made Elise feel that ignoring him now in favor of Hvitserk would just make her look weak, like she was pouting at his insult.

“So your women dance on this day too?” she asked, holding Ivar’s gaze while she snuggled just a little into his brother’s embrace.

“Around a bonfire,” he answered, “seeking the favor of the Gods.”

To hear such casual blasphemy made Elise feel a little uncomfortable, but truth be told she was not very pious, and there was no one around here to shame her for entertaining pagan notions. “What favors do your gods give?”

Hvitserk had started rocking his hips against the curve of her ass, softly, making her body feel warm and languid again. “This is the season for fertility,” he answered, voice sounding soft and distracted as he nosed behind her ear. “Our people say that a kiss under a blooming tree on this night brings magic.”

She watched Ivar’s eyes flit to his brother’s lips as they fastened themselves to her neck. His face fell, and Elise only cocked one eyebrow in smug challenge back at him. Served him right for trying to insult her.

“That’s enough conversation,” Ivar announced. “We’ve waited long enough, I think, dear brother.”

Elise pulled away from Hvitserk without even thinking about it, dismay shooting through her once again.

Ivar’s eyes were traveling the room as she stepped closer to the bed. “We should just take what we want,” he suggested, “and then go.”

His eyes meandered all over her body then, while Elise just stood there, uncertain as to what she did or did not want from him.

Ivar’s brows jumped when they reached her waist. “This is pretty,” he said, reaching out and yanking away the brightly-embroidered sewing case that was hanging from her wide belt.

“Hey!” Elise exclaimed. Ivar held it away when she tried to snatch it back from him, just as he had done with her mother’s necklace earlier. But this time his grin was broader, and Elise felt no shame in climbing onto the bed to try and wrestle it back. In no time both of them were giggling between their teeth as she attempted to pry it from his hand. Ivar’s eyes flashed at her as they struggled, so brilliantly blue from this close.

She used both of her hands to try and pull his fingers back as her knees pressed into the mattress beside his hip. So tight was her grip on his one clenched fist that she had no defense at all when Ivar suddenly wrapped his other arm around her and spun her down onto her back, rolling himself just as quickly right on top of her.

He released the needle case into her hands then, and Elise’s heart raced as she suddenly realized that the struggle had just been a ruse to get her onto the bed with him. They had landed with both her arms curled up between their chests, pinned between their bodies. When she tried to move Ivar only wrapped his hand around her shoulder, bracing her to stay down. They were both still breathing heavy through grinning teeth, but the glee in their expressions was starting to fade into something else as they eyed each other from only inches apart.

“Get off,” she commanded, batting at him uselessly with one locked arm. He was heavier than she thought, his weight against her belly and chest making it a little hard for her to breathe.

Ivar only shook his head ‘no,’ grinning down at her and letting his eyes flick to her lips. “We are not under a blooming tree,” he said, loud enough that it was clear he was addressing his brother, “but do you think if I kissed her now the charm would still work, Hvitserk?”

Elise turned her head to see what her first suitor thought of all this. Hvitserk had pulled a chair near the bed and taken a seat in it, crossing an ankle across his knee as he looked over calmly at them. She thought she saw something raging behind his eyes, but his voice was smooth as glass when he shrugged and answered his brother. “Only one way to find out.”

Elise was stunned. He had seemed so eager to seduce her, and she had thought she could play the two of them off each other for at least a little longer. Had he already decided to cede in favor of his brother? And if he didn’t intervene, how then was she going to get herself out from under Ivar?

The boy in question gave a soft grunt in response to his brother and then turned his attention back to Elise’s face. He was terribly handsome, maybe even the better-looking of the two. It was just that… something about his bearing seemed less trustworthy. He shifted on top of her, pulling himself up to better loom over her lips. “Help me get the Gods’ blessing, Elise?”

She considered rejecting him, payback for the comment about her dancing earlier. But his lips looked soft and plump as rose petals, and the idea of getting kissed by two boys in one day did make her vanity shimmer. She settled for a tease. Letting her lashes veil her eyes, Elise pursed her lips softly, lifted her head… and gave Ivar a quick peck on the cheek.

She dropped her head back to the mattress and beamed a cheeky smile up at him. She thought she caught a ghost of a frown before Ivar covered it with an answering grin, one dripping with mockery. “That’s the best that you can do?” He shifted on top of her, as if to remind her that he was the one holding her down.

Elise cocked her head, refusing to be intimidated. “Maybe it’s the best that you deserve.”

Ivar’s brows creased, and she could see instantly that her barb had stung him too deep. This one was no stranger to rejection. She softened her face, wanting him to see her apology while wondering if Hvitserk would intervene if Ivar got mad enough to mistreat her.

But he got a hold of himself, another cool mask sliding over that glimpse of vulnerability. Ivar clucked his tongue, pursing his lips like he was disappointed in her. “And here I was going to reward you, for being such a helpful girl. You can’t even help me with this?” He licked his lips, and watched her like she was prey he was getting ready to strike.

She tried to struggle underneath him again. All it did was make her aware that Ivar’s legs were in between her own, pinning her left hip and thigh firmly down into the mattress. She could move the right one, but all she accomplished by flailing about was to first open her legs further to him, then to squeeze him snugly between her thighs. She couldn’t tell if the rush she felt after that was embarrassment or desire.

But something nagged at the back of her mind. “Your injury,” she gasped suddenly. “It doesn’t hurt to lay like this?”

Ivar’s lips pressed together as several emotions seemed to flit across his face. “The pain is not too bad,” he finally answered with one arched brow. “Not as long as you don’t struggle too much.”

Elise forced her body to relax. Whatever was wrong with his legs, she did not find it in her to be able to exploit that weakness to make her escape. “All right,” she whispered, as she realized she no longer wanted this feeling of him covering her body to end quite yet, anyway.

Ivar’s next smile was softer, his face loosening at the same pace as her limbs. Despite all his mocking words, he wanted to be trusted. He liked how that felt. The tip of his tongue slipped out to moisten his lips, and he leaned toward her fractionally. Elise found her chin tipping up to receive him.

His kiss was warm and almost soothing. His pillowy lips provided a firm but gentle resistance as Elise pushed up to him, determined not to give him as poor a show with her lips as she apparently had with her dancing. Ivar’s mouth worked over hers languidly, displaying no rush at all. It was quite at odds with his attitude throughout their whole conversation, but Elise found herself trusting it, relaxing further into his arms, parting her lips for him when he started to work them open with his own.

She was still aware of Hvitserk sitting next to them. Her cheeks began to burn as she contemplated how she must look to him, kissing his brother so deeply while their bodies started to writhe slowly together. She just wanted at least one more moment of this feeling before she had to tear herself away. The sweet slide of Ivar’s tongue was making her feel lighter than air. Besides, she was still giving Hvitserk the chance to get jealous as he watched. Hopefully he would start pushing back again, and the game could continue.

She heard the rustle of Hvitserk’s clothing as he shifted in his chair, and that was enough to embarrass Elise into breaking Ivar’s kiss. She turned her head to face Hvitserk, feeling Ivar’s lips trail softly over her cheek before he pulled his head up sharply, as if stung by her distraction.

The fairer brother had both feet on the ground now, leaning forward with his elbows propped on his knees. His eyes had gone darker, and now Elise almost regretted hoping for his renewed interest. The intensity behind his gaze almost seemed dangerous.

She turned her face back up to Ivar and pressed forward with her plan anyway. “Don’t you think Hvitserk wants the blessing too?” she asked in her most innocent voice. Never mind that he had in fact already kissed her, just not anywhere that Ivar could see.

Ivar worked his jaw for a moment, staring down at Elise as he thought about her words. He shifted against her hip in what seemed to be an unconscious rutting motion. An unfamiliar hardness pressed into her. Was that—

“Ivar has never been good at sharing,” Hvitserk remarked, which made his brother scowl at him. Hvitserk met his gaze with an expectant look on his face that Elise couldn’t interpret.

Exhaling with an irritated burst of air, Ivar lifted himself suddenly off Elise’s body, hovering on his hands above her. “Go,” he barked, and Elise felt more wounded by the way he dismissed her than she expected. His eyes slid off her like she had suddenly become worthless, and then he rolled onto his side so she was fully free.

Her eyes lingered on Ivar a moment longer before she tensed her limbs to turn and get off the bed. Just as she began to lift herself, however, she felt the mattress sag on her other side, and twisted to see Hvitserk settling in to stretch his body out alongside her own. He brought one hand softly to the side of her face, and guided her to relax back into the pillow again. It didn’t feel right to turn her back on Ivar, so she lay there belly-up between them, plucking at her skirt with nervous fingers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry to leave it hanging right there! I'm half done with the final chapter I promise, I just suddenly realized the word count had gotten egregious and the fic was going to need 3 chapters instead of 2. Hope your libidos are not in too much pain!!!


	3. Chapter 3

“I really shouldn’t lay here like this.”

“Like what,” Hvitserk teased, as if there were nothing wrong at all with laying alone in a bed with not one, but two young heathen men. He propped his head up on one hand so he could look down at her, so close that both his belly and knee rested casually against her.

“Between… you two.” She looked down the lines of their three bodies, barely any space between them on the bed that once seemed so big. She paused watching her own breast rise and fall, terribly quickly. The yellow linen of her dress looked so thin framed by dark leather armor to either side.

“Ivar doesn’t mind. In fact, he likes to watch,” Hvitserk said, shooting his brother another meaningful look over her head.

Elise jumped a little at his misinterpretation of what was bothering her, jumped again when Hvitserk used a finger to turn her jaw toward his. He wouldn’t let her look to Ivar for his reaction.

“Hey,” he said when her eyes flitted back up to resume drowning in his. “Relax, and let’s just have some fun. I’m ready for my blessing.”

She couldn’t stop herself from lifting her chin to meet his kiss, though she forced the rest of her body to be still. She wanted this; Lord in heaven, how she loved the way her limbs buzzed and her mind spun when Hvitserk’s lips worked insistently over hers. His hand traveled down the side of her neck, grazed the peak of her breast just enough to leave her wanting more before sliding down her ribs and circling over her belly.

Her own hands were lying rigid upon the tops of her thighs. She could not let herself be wanton enough to reach out and touch this heathen herself. Hvitserk found one of her hands and caressed it, playing with her fingers, coaxing her even as he pressed his tongue past her teeth.

His dancing fingers were also brushing the crease between her thigh and lower belly; she thought the touches accidental as she secretly enjoyed the tingles that exploded through her core from every quick little slide. Until he walked those fingertips directly onto the sensitive mound above her slit. There was no doubting his intentions then, especially when he started to bunch the yellow linen up into his fist to slide her skirt higher.

Elise yelped, pushing him away with both hands even though the sensation had been truly delicious. “No,” she whimpered.

Hvitserk lifted his hand away, looking puzzled.

“I can’t.”

He only cocked his head. “Why not?”

Elise swallowed. Her body was screaming the same question at her. “Christ bids all women to stay chaste. Until they are married.”

Hvitserk’s face fell, though he did not look exactly discouraged.

Ivar barked a laugh in her other ear. “Good thing you told your lord’s men that Hvitserk is your husband, then,” he suggested, waggling his head cheekily when she turned to look at him in surprise. He was reclined comfortably on his side of the bed, and seemed to be enjoying her predicament. Perhaps Hvitserk was right about his preference just to watch.

“Yes,” Hvitserk hummed into her ear, pressing himself more firmly against the line of her body, “let me be your husband tonight. I know you liked that game.” He planted a soft kiss just under her earlobe. “Let’s keep playing it, the best part is yet to come.”

Ivar’s eyes said he was not done with her either.

So this was what “temptation” meant. The priest was always droning on about its power, how good Christians must always guard themselves against it.

Hvitserk was drawing circles over her belly, teasing with the idea of reaching between her legs again, trying to make her admit she wanted that. Ivar reached up and cupped her cheek, biting his bottom lip as he dragged his thumb over her mouth. He spoke in his own language again, a fervent murmur. _“Why do you not just take her?”_ His dilating eyes trailed down to watch the way her chest rose and fell, still too fast.

Hvitserk responded with a smirk that creased his cheek becomingly. _“Sometimes it’s more fun to play with your food first. And when a girl is willing, brother, there is so much more that you can do with her. That you can get her to do.”_

Ivar’s brows creased, his gaze sweeping over the way she held her body so still between them. His fingers plucked at her shoulder, the neckline of her dress. _“Does it always take this much effort? To make a girl want to?”_

He sounded cross with her. Elise worried they were talking about leaving again, though Hvitserk’s petting was only getting heavier. She knew she should be happy if they just left, with her virtue still intact, but… that wasn’t really what she wanted anymore.

_“Sometimes. Some women want you to prove that you will be able to bring them pleasure, before they will open their legs to you.”_

Ivar frowned defensively at his brother, bringing his hand to the front of his pants. Elise flinched.

Hvitserk shook his head a little as he answered. _“That’s not what you have to prove, Ivar.”_ He soothed Elise with a soft hum, mouthing his lips along her hair as his hot hand continued its steady circles over her belly, up between her breasts and down again.

Maybe they weren’t talking about leaving. Were they arguing about who was going to take her first?

Ivar had lifted his hand away from his groin, though he still seemed skeptical about something. Hvitserk had more to say to him. _“Women want other kinds of touches first. You have to set their whole bodies on fire. Then they’ll get really wet down there, and the fucking will feel better.”_

Whatever Hvitserk was saying, he seemed to be working himself up. His fingers kneaded her more deeply, and he looked down at her body like he had already gotten all of her clothes off. Elise almost wished he had; she was starting to feel very hot all over. She pictured herself lying naked between these Vikings and a jolt of pleasure rolled through her so sharp that she almost cried out.

She settled for kicking off her shoes.

Hvitserk licked his lips as he watched the motion. “So you’re staying a while, then?”

Elise smiled mockingly. “If you are.” The next sentence came out before she could think it through. “My parents won’t come back before dark.”

“We’ll have to leave well before that time,” Ivar said, the wickedness returning to his sharp-toothed grin. “So if you have any parting gifts you would like to give us, better do it quickly.”

Hvitserk frowned at his brother.

“I was the one who saved you from those soldiers,” Elise reminded him, setting her head at a cocky angle against the pillow. “Why would I be the one to give you gifts?”

“A reward,” Hvitserk said swiftly, cutting off whatever might have been Ivar’s reply. “Weren’t you saying you wanted a reward?”

Elise rolled her head back to look up at him. “Yes, a reward would be quite appropriate.”

“Then let us reward you in pleasure.”

Elise felt her mouth go dry at the promises she glimpsed behind Hvitserk’s eyes. “What—” her voice came out strange and she had to swallow and try again, “—what sort of pleasure can you give?” she asked, thinking of the tingling he had produced at the apex of her thighs earlier. She knew it was sinful, but she wasn’t sure that she cared. The slight wrong-ness was only making it more appealing.

Hvitserk answered her with a knowing smile and drew his hand up to cup one of her breasts. He kneaded the flesh softly, then drew his thumb toward his fingers and rolled it, catching up her nipple under the fabric and teasing it, slow and steady.

“Oh,” Elise gasped softly. A jolt of heat shot from her nipple to her sex, somewhere deep inside. She had never felt anything like it.

“Does that feel good?” he asked softly, inspecting her face as he continued to softly pinch.

“Yes.” It was a wild sort of pleasure, one that made her want to squirm, but she didn’t want him to stop as he rolled her flesh back and forth with that knowing look in his eyes. He had himself propped up on his elbow, cheek resting softly on one fist while the other hand played with her almost idly.

“And if Ivar does it too…” Hvitserk added, flicking his brows at his brother as he trailed off.

Elise felt Ivar shift, then his hand covered her other breast, heavier than Hvitserk’s. When he began to pinch and tug at her too Elise sucked in a sharp breath, closing her eyes tight against the intensity of being stimulated by both of them at once.

“It’s even better, isn’t it?” Hvitserk asked, finishing his thought.

Elise could only whimper and writhe on the bed between them. A strange wanting was growing in her gut. She wasn’t sure what it was that she wanted, but with growing certainty she knew that Hvitserk would be able to give it to her, if only she could find it within herself to ask. “Please…” she moaned.

Ivar kneaded her more firmly, breath growing heavy in her ear.

“Kiss Ivar again,” Hvitserk suggested.

Elise giggled. It was just such a strange request. “Why wouldn’t you ask me to kiss you?”

Hvitserk shrugged just a little, the smile in his eyes unwavering. “I don’t want him to feel neglected. You like him too, don’t you?”

She felt almost drunk. Their hands had slowed down on her breasts, giving her room to think, but the heat had faded only to a slow simmer. She looked at both of them, Hvitserk earnest and encouraging, Ivar guarded but wanting. “Yes,” she said, rolling her head without any more hesitation toward the dark-haired brother.

Ivar held back until he recognized the eagerness in her face. She still was not sure how much she wanted to let them do, but she longed to feel the softness of Ivar’s lips at least once more. She made a soft sound that was almost like a purr when he covered her mouth with his own.

She found her jaw working as a sensation similar to hunger started to take over, leading her to nip and suck at Ivar’s lips and tongue as greedily as his mouth had begun working at hers. His grip on her breast intensified too, his fingers digging into her until it became painful and she cried out into his mouth.

Ivar lifted his head back, looking hurt and confused at her protest, and unwilling to give up his claiming grip on her breast.

Hvitserk told him something. When Ivar’s hand began to relax, Elise assumed he was telling him to be gentler. _“Not too much in any one place. A woman’s whole body needs to be teased and worshipped.”_

Ivar slid his hand off her breast, running it down her flank and over the hip that had begun to turn toward him in their passion.

Hvitserk’s brows flipped up as he added something else. _“Try kissing her neck. Then… nibble on her earlobe a little. Not too hard.”_

Ivar brought those greedly lips back down toward her, but bypassed her mouth to instead push her jaw aside with his nose and press himself to the side of her neck. His rapid exhale against the sensitive skin there made her shiver. And when he took her earlobe between his teeth, she felt again that restless urge, to squirm but not to pull away.

Her eyes and feet sought Hvitserk, for what she could not say. His strong legs squeezed around one of her own. She moaned as Ivar hit a particularly delicious spot, eyelids fluttering. The satisfaction behind Hvitserk’s eyes only deepened.

“You don’t get jealous?” She asked him, letting her hand run up Ivar’s arm now. It felt good to pull behind his shoulder, clutch him a little closer to herself.

“We are Vikings,” Hvitserk replied, pride in his voice. “To us, there is nothing wrong with what we are doing here. Let us show you.”

Elise turned back to Ivar, pulling away from his lips at her throat until he would look at her, the same question in her eyes for him.

Ivar nodded, though his face was tighter, and he dove back in to kiss her lips again. Elise was happy to melt underneath him, feel his body relax against her side too.

Hvitserk’s hands were wandering again. While her head was turned toward Ivar, the rest of her was still laid out for him, and she even felt bold enough to run her right hand up the back of the fair-haired brother’s neck, encouraging him to stay close. He tried to tug the neckline of her dress down far enough to free her breasts, but couldn’t quite manage it. A moment later she felt his mouth wide over one peak, heat enveloping her sensitive nipple even through the fabric as he dragged his teeth softly over her.

Ivar’s tongue grew more insistent, his kisses pressing so hard she barely had room to breathe. That hardness was pressing against the outside of her thigh again, and soon she thought she was feeling its mirror image on Hvitserk’s side.

The elder brother gave up on her neckline and tried to slide her dress up from the bottom instead. Elise broke away from Ivar’s mouth to protest again.

This time Hvitserk only slowed, rather than stopping completely. His hand was at her knee, and he dropped the fabric in favor of sliding his warm palm over the inside of her calf. He propped himself up a little higher on his other elbow. “Don’t you want to feel what it’s like to be a Viking woman? I know you are curious. Now is your chance.” His fingertips crept above her knee, setting her legs tingling.

Ivar was back on her ear, nipping and teasing. “If you say yes, no one will know. We are not village boys. There will be no gossip.”

Hvitserk’s hand tried to slide up her inner thigh. Elise squeezed her legs together, trapping it. “No,” was all she could say.

Hvitserk nodded slowly. “You don’t want to have sex.” He didn’t seem mad about it, though she felt Ivar pull away.

“I—no, I don’t think so…” her whole body screamed in protest, but her head was swirling and she wasn’t sure she wouldn’t regret this horribly. But she didn’t want to just let them go either. Her flesh felt so cold where Ivar had pulled away from her.

“Then what do you want to do?” Hvitserk removed his hand from between her legs, though he had to shake it a little to get her to release her squeezing grip around his bold fingers. He laid his palm softly on the side of her waist and looked at her patiently. He wasn’t going anywhere. If anything, he curled his body closer to hers, snuggling in.

“I… I’m not sure I know what you mean?” Elise replied, as his fingers began idly stroking her again. “I—I suppose I’ve heard that there are other things but… I’m not exactly sure what to say,” she babbled. Her head rocked to look over at Ivar, who was frowning again. She was sure she had hurt his feelings somehow. “It’s just that I’ve never…”

Ivar’s face softened a fraction. “You’ve never laid down with a man?”

“No,” she told him. “I’ve only ever kissed a boy once before…”

She had only been good in her life, up until now. And she didn’t want to be good any longer, but this moment was just too overwhelming, she wasn’t sure what she was ready for.

“Only kisses?” Hvitserk echoed, leaning closer. “This is the closest you’ve ever been with someone? The most you’ve ever touched?”

Elise nodded.

Hvitserk smiled, friendly and reassuring, dipping his face closer to hers, tracing his fingers down her cheek. There was still something darker behind his eyes but he probably thought he was concealing it.

“So you don’t even know what it feels like,” Ivar said softly from her other side. “How good it feels,” he amended. His hand was back at her breast, gentler this time.

“No, but… I am afraid.”

A little furrow appeared between Hvitserk’s brows. “There is nothing to fear. I promise. Only pleasure.” His voice was soft and a little rumbly, speaking from mere inches above her lips. Then his face twitched like a new thought had occurred to him. “Maybe you just want to start with… Have you ever even touched one before? A man’s…” he trailed off, looking down the line of his own body as he presented his hips to her.

Elise shook her head.

Hvitserk’s smile was dazzling. “Well you are a lucky girl, there are two here you can touch.”

Elise didn’t protest, but she didn’t reach down, either.

Hvitserk glanced at Ivar, then grinned at her and rolled away a little further. “Here, sit up between us,” he instructed. “Maybe you’ll feel less frightened that way?”

Elise felt almost dizzy when she sat up. She didn’t really want to get away from them, but it did feel a little better to lift her torso out from between them and their maddening hands. She took a deep breath before she turned to face the two boys, curling her knees underneath herself as she sat down even with their thighs.

Hvitserk was reclined next to Ivar now, hands up behind his head. The two of them looked up at her expectantly, and she felt heat rising to color her cheeks again already. “Touch whatever you like,” Hvitserk suggested.

A pair of gorgeous boys, offering themselves to her. Elise preened a little at the thought. She set one palm on each of their thighs, sliding up the course wool of their trousers.

 Two young Viking warriors, both covered in dirty armor. She wanted to feel their chests and stomachs, but studded leather vests covered both of them. She ran her hand over the thick material without any real gratification. “Do you want this off?” Hvitserk asked, reading her gesture and already sitting up to start tugging at the lacing that held his armor on.

“Yes,” she replied breathily, caught up in the look in Ivar’s eyes as he moved more slowly to comply. The unexpected vulnerability was back, though he was trying to cover it with a thin mirroring of his brother’s lust. Elise set her fingers on one of the buckles holding his black jerkin on, and dropped her voice to almost a whisper. “You don’t have to.”

Ivar’s face clouded. “Oh, I want to,” he said defensively, ripping the rest of the straps from their buckles.

Elise put her hand back in her lap and just watched the flurry of activity to either side of her. Armored vests were flung to the floor, and their undershirts were stripped off just as quickly.

Somehow they were almost more intimidating without that gear, their strong bodies bared so close to her on the bed. Elise had been concerned there was something under his shirt Ivar was ashamed to reveal, but his body was magnificent; smooth creamy skin covering a wide chest and thick arms. Hvitserk’s shoulders were narrower, but thick muscle cut tantalizing angles in his flesh too. They looked at her with dark anticipation bleeding into their eyes, but waited for her to make the next move.

She touched Ivar first, feeling pulled to make up for all those moments she had seemed to reject him. Her fingers traced across the angled swell of one heavy shoulder, then ran along the dense muscle below his collarbone. She felt her face go slack, lips parting as she admired him. Ivar’s hand came to her shoulder, softly urging her arm to continue sliding down, over his tight stomach, toward—

She looked to Hvitserk first. He had that prideful look about him again, like he was truly gratified to have facilitated a girl’s hands on his brother’s body. Elise was curious about the story there but didn’t want to take the time to ask. Hvitserk reclined back down, holding her eyes as he stretched out and made himself comfortable. “Do whatever you’d like with us, Elise,” he said lightly, and loosened the waistband of his trousers, ready to give her easy access to whatever the thin trail of hair below his navel was leading to.

Ivar, more impatient, had covered her hand with his own and, with a steady push, was leading her down to his own groin.

Elise felt a flush of apprehension that tingled right through her womanhood as she let Ivar’s strong hand press hers over the top of his trousers. There was a rod straining at the fabric there, flexing at its base under the pressure of her hand but thick and unyielding along its length. Ivar groaned and his eyes rolled up a little when she wrapped her fingers around it and explored it with a gentle squeeze.

She didn’t want Hvitserk to feel left out. As she sculpted her fingers around Ivar’s shape with her right hand, she ran her left across Hvitserk’s lower belly and dipped her fingers under his trousers. Hvitserk responded helpfully by scooping himself up out of his pants entirely, thrusting the fabric down and out of the way, presenting his cock to her with one hand wrapped comfortably around its base.

It stood straight up from his body, paler than the rest of his skin but reddened at the tip. The rounded head of it looked like nothing so much as one of the mushrooms that grows out of the forest floor, a delightful secret that grows boldly from dark places. Elise had only ever seen erections on livestock before, and was relieved and gladdened to find that a man’s member was much more beautiful to look at.

Still, she giggled, mostly from nerves. Ivar, forehead pressed into her shoulder now, made a gratified sound at the thought of her laughing at his brother’s cock. Her eyes flew to Hvitserk’s face, apologetic, but he did not seem offended by her outburst at all. “I want you to touch it,” he coaxed.

Hvitserk continued to hold himself up for her, his fingers wrapped loosely around the base, as Elise raised her fingertips to softy swirl over his tip. His breath came out of him in a sigh of tension relieved. She traced her hand up and down his shaft, delighted at how silky the skin felt on its bumpy underside.

She realized her right hand had stopped moving on Ivar when she felt his fingers spasm over hers. “Lay down,” she whispered to him. “I want to see you both.”

Ivar stiffened at first. She didn’t think he was used to being told what to do. But when she gave him a few quick squeezes through his trousers, he exhaled in a pleased little huff and did what she asked. After he laid back, dark hair splaying loose across the pillow as he looked up at her intently, he let her help him draw his trousers down far enough to free his cock and balls.

It looked almost the same as his brother’s, though the hair that surrounded it was darker and made the skin look more pink. It twitched as she took it more firmly in hand, and Ivar made that groan again, louder this time.

Elise let her fingers dance over both cocks at once, marveling at the delicate silkiness of the skin, and how easy it was to make these marauding Vikings twitch and gasp and moan. Her friend had once told her that when boys touched themselves in that sinful, forbidden way, that they pulled on it like they were milking a cow. Elise was afraid to try anything so forceful at first, but she found indeed that when she squeezed her fists, both of them stopped breathing, and when she ran that grip up and down Ivar’s lashes fluttered and Hvitserk whispered something that sounded like a curse.

It felt incredible, to have these once-frightening men entirely at her mercy now. And the way their faces contorted with pleasure as she dared to squeeze a little harder… Intoxicating. She felt like some pagan witch. She felt powerful.

Hvitserk caught her eye, his face brimming with pleasure and eagerness for more. “Give mine a kiss.”

Elise couldn’t stop herself from giggling again. The image that popped into her mind looked patently absurd. “What? Why?”

Hvitserk drew both his arms up behind his head again. “It feels good,” he said, tone almost casual. Elise pumped him hard just to crack the smug expression on his face. Hvitserk closed his eyes in pleasure. “Run your lips over the tip, see what you think.”

Elise giggled again, and looked at Ivar. He didn’t seem to think it was a silly idea. His face was rapt, waiting to see if she would do it.

She held her hands still, one wrapped around the base of each cock, and slowly leaned down over Hvitserk’s. His face was growing tighter and tighter with anticipation as she leaned down, and she gave him her cheekiest smile just to keep him guessing until the final moment.

Then she closed her eyes and kissed him chastely, right at the tip, over the hole where she knew his seed would eventually come out. Did he want to do that in her mouth?

It was strange, but she did enjoy the feeling of his smooth tip against her lips. She let her mouth gently open and feathered her lips across his head, then down one side to feel the silky skin of his shaft.

Hvitserk’s noise sounded like something between a gurgle and a chortle. “Like that,” he choked in a strained voice, “do you like it, Elise?”

“Mhmm.” Her humming reply brought his hand down to steady the back of her head, fingers spasming in her hair.

“Some girls like to lick them, suck on them.”

Elise looked up at him, sure her eyes were as round as saucers.

“You can finish a man that way,” Hvitserk added, “if you don’t want to have sex.”

So that was why he had suggested this. She could keep her maidenhead, the invaders would leave, and her life would go on as if none of this had ever happened.

Was that what she wanted?

Elise closed her eyes again and let her tongue press past her lips, swirling softly over the head of Hvitserk’s cock. His moan was deep and growly, with the hand buried in her hair he pressed her to take more of him into her mouth. “Just like that.”

She opened her jaw wider, letting him in, then sucking him softly. She followed his encouraging noises, realizing she could drag pretty hard on him without causing pain.

Hvitserk’s grip on her head loosened, prompting her to stop. Elise withdrew his cock from her mouth, hastily swallowing some of the spit she had been coating him with. “Let me guess,” she said before he could speak, “you’re going to ask me to do the same to Ivar?”

She smirked at Hvitserk for only a moment before turning her attention to his brother, who she found watching them both with a slight pout in his full lips. Her right hand had stopped working him over but was still wrapped around his cock, and as Elise’s attention shifted it came back to life, squeezing with new confidence as she bent in Ivar’s direction.

The softness was coming back into his face as he watched her descend. Elise was starting to wonder if Ivar had very much more experience than she did. She gave him a sweeter smile than the one she had given Hvitserk. _Trust me,_ it said.

His eyes were wide and she held them as she bent down, letting her hair spill over her shoulder. She started with a soft kiss, just as Hvitserk had instructed, then licked him all over his tip before closing her mouth around the reddish head and sucking firmly.

Both of Ivar’s hands turned to fists in the blanket covering the bed. He was so overcome he looked almost helpless; Elise liked the look of it so much that she kept her eyes open as she tried to suck him in deeper. His whole body stiffened. He looked like he feared one wrong move would make this stop and it would be better just to stay still.

She purred at the pleasure of that sight, which made his whole back spasm. She closed her eyes and pressed down further, striving to take him far enough into her mouth that her lips hit the edge of her fist wrapped around the bottom of his shaft. Now it was Ivar’s turn to curse.

_“Now do you think the effort was worth it, brother?”_ Hvitserk was speaking in his own language again; his tone sounded a little teasing and Elise could only hope he wasn’t mocking her.

Ivar responded with one guttural word and a rude gesture pointed toward his brother. If Hvitserk was being condescending, then Ivar was defending her. Elise decided to reward him with a more vigorous sucking.

“Oh, yes, Elise.” Ivar groaned out, “like that. Keep doing that.”

She felt Hvitserk getting up. He took her hand from his cock and guided it over to the bed near Ivar’s hip. “Get comfortable,” Hvitserk suggested as he moved away, “sometimes this takes a little while.”

Elise was happy to shift from the way she was doubled up on the bed, lifting her hips to stretch her knees a little. Her first impulse was to lay her body across Ivar’s legs as she bobbed her head up and down over his cock, but she did not know where his injury was located and steered clear. She ended up bracing herself on all fours, and decided to stay that way when she felt Hvtiserk’s hands sliding up the backs of her thighs.

Perhaps she should have pulled away from him, as she had all the other times. But his touch set her core tingling and aching all over again. Worse than before, in fact, now that the Vikings’ arousal was so apparent and Ivar had started a soft moaning in time to her strokes. Her body was practically begging for a bit of the kind of pleasure she was clearly bringing to him.

When Hvitserk’s hand tried to lift her dress for the third time this afternoon, she did not stop him. His fingers traced up bare skin that had never been touched by any but her own hand, and when he reached that throbbing place between her thighs he spread her boldly, curling his fingers against things she never knew existed.

“Ahhh!” she cried as the pleasure scorched through her, breaking her rhythm on Ivar’s cock.

“You don’t have to stop,” Hvitserk coaxed her. “I’m just starting your reward a little early.”

Elise saw stars when she closed her eyes. The pleasure that Hvitserk was swirling and rubbing between her most intimate folds was threatening to overwhelm everything; she understood Ivar’s reaction to her mouth now. One of her fists curled into the bedspread just as his had, but the other had only his cock to grip for comfort.

She tried bravely to keep working Ivar over with her lips and tongue. But when Hvitserk pressed his own hot mouth over her sex, and her legs began to shake, Elise had to admit defeat. She pulled her lips off Ivar’s cock with a sloppy sound and gasped at Hvitserk. “I don’t think I can—” she sucked in another breath as Hvitserk’s tongue batted at something that sent waves of heat coursing through all four of her limbs “—I’m going to fall over,” she warned.

Finally Hvitserk relented. “Lay on your back, then,” came his soft voice from between her thighs. “Ivar can finish later.”

Everything looked strange as both the boys helped her lay comfortably on her back again, this time with her skirts crumpled up over her hips. Her head was spinning, but she wasn’t afraid anymore. Her whole body felt absolutely, deliciously wonderful. Ivar kept tugging at her dress as Hvitserk spread her thighs and settled between them, until she arched her back, unbuckled her belt, and let them take her clothes the rest of the way off.

Naked in a bed of heathens. There was no going back now, and she didn’t want to, not now that she’d had a sweet taste of Hvitserk’s “reward.”

Ivar laid alongside her again, watching with interest as Hvitserk ran his thumb through Elise’s slit, spreading her for his tongue to follow. Elise didn’t see anything after that, too carried away by the intensity of his gentle, slippery pressure to be able to keep her eyes open.

She felt Ivar’s hands scooping up her breasts, though, and when his mouth closed over one of her nipples she felt all that pleasure start building to something she couldn’t quite define. Hvitserk’s mouth was on that pleasure point above her opening, and his fingers were swirling softly against the entrance there, not quite penetrating her but making her suddenly long for it.

“Will you--?” she gasped. She rocked her hips up to meet his hand. “Are you going to touch me inside?”

For some reason Ivar was the one that groaned in response to that question.

“Is that what you want?” Hvitserk asked, voice husky, fingers swirling shallowly against her.

“Yes,” she said quickly, before she could think too hard about what she was asking for.

He growled in pleasure and stuck two fingers in his mouth, coating them with saliva.

“Let me,” Ivar interjected. It wasn’t clear whether he was addressing her or Hvitserk. The fair-haired brother froze, looking at Elise for her answer.

Ivar put his hand on her cheek but didn’t say anything else. The eyes that captured hers were almost pleading, pupils blown wide, and suddenly Elise felt so _wanted_ she found herself nodding yes, even though she had thought Hvitserk was the one that she trusted more.

The smile that fluttered over Ivar’s face melted her last doubt. She watched two fingers plunge past those angel’s lips of his, preparing his digits just as Hvitserk had just done. The fair-haired Viking pulled back as Ivar brought that hand down to her sex, swirling fingertips in her wetness without breaking eye contact. She watched him enjoy the feel of her body as fresh thrills ran through her.

Hvitserk murmured a few more things in their tongue and Elise was finally sure that Ivar was as virginal as herself, that his brother was instructing him. That made her happy too, as she stared up at the once-ferocious boy hovering above her, now biting his lip in concentration. _“Just one finger first. Then slowly start to stretch her. If you do well and it doesn’t hurt, she’ll want to fuck us next.”_

His finger felt thicker than she had thought it was, when Ivar finally started to press it inside. The sensation was so new that all she could do was lay back and stare up at him, open-mouthed, as he started drawing it back and forth, in and out, exploring her with as much wonder on his face as she was feeling too.

Her face twitched when he brushed something exceptionally pleasurable. His brows creased, reacting to her reaction. “There?” he asked, repeating the gesture. “Do you like that?”

She nodded swiftly, feeling at a loss for words, drowning under his hawk’s eyes that searched out her every reaction and the heat he was building between her thighs.

The faster he moved, in and out, the better it felt, and when her body began to loosen he added another finger, bringing her to the brink of the intensity she could handle all over again. She felt a wild pressure building deep in her core again, centered right around that spot that Ivar made sure to keep rubbing as his fingers fucked in and out of her.

“Do you want to come, Elise?” Hvitserk asked.

She tore her eyes from Ivar’s to look at the source of the voice she had almost forgot existed. “What do you mean?”

The boy almost rolled his eyes at her. “Christians,” he muttered, and brought himself a little closer to her. “Here, I’ll show you.”

He reached his hand above Ivar’s, and found that spot again, the one he had been batting so steadily with his tongue earlier. Immediately Elise’s back arched and she could no longer look at either one of them as the pleasure overwhelmed her.

Hvitserk’s fingers sent her spiraling just as Ivar’s anchored her, pressing deep within her body and grounding the wild sensation that was taking over everything. She heard herself moaning, almost sobbing, in time to Ivar’s thrusts, and suddenly it was like she caught fire, like lightning struck, with some magic bursting from Hvitserk’s fingertips and rushing through her body, sizzling around Ivar’s fingers and leaving her screaming through her teeth.

She didn’t know which one to turn to. She just knew she needed to hold on. As that burst of all-consuming pleasure faded, she found herself with one arm wrapped around Hvitserk’s neck while her face buried itself in Ivar’s chest. Hvitserk’s hand stopped moving, but Ivar’s fingers were still rocking slowly inside of her.

She looked up at him, mouth agape as she tried to catch her breath. Ivar was breathing just as hard, staring down at her like she was the most beautiful creature he had ever seen.

“Let me have you now,” he coaxed. “Please.” His eyes were wide and urgent. She didn’t think it was a word he used often.

She swallowed. “What will it feel like?” His cock was thicker than two fingers together, she knew that.

“Even better,” Hvitserk promised, softly petting her arm in encouragement.

Ivar did something inside her that brought pressure, but not pain. “It will fit.”

Elise reached down and found Ivar’s cock, still spilling out of his trousers. It was so hard it was twitching, and her thumb found some of his seed already oozing out. Ivar gasped, moaned, then pleaded with her again.

Hvitserk pulled himself up against her back, the warmth of his bare chest soothing. “You can go as slow as you like,” he suggested softly in her ear. “Get on top of him and just sink down, only as far as it feels good.”

Elise’s body shuddered with desire.

Ivar slipped his fingers out from her, slowly, and he rolled back to follow Hvitserk’s plan. If Elise had any hesitation left in her, it fled in the face of the disappointing emptiness she felt in the wake of Ivar’s retreat. Her body burned to get him back inside, and the thought of replacing his fingers with something thicker sent a fresh wave of arousal through her still-shuddering limbs.

Still, she felt timid as she drew herself up onto her knees in the middle of the bed. Hvitserk seemed to sense it, came up beside her and covered her shoulder and back with kisses. “So beautiful,” he murmured into her bare skin.

“You don’t mind?” she had to ask again, feeling strange about giving herself to Ivar when Hvitserk’s cock was standing just as tall and hard next to her hip.

His smile was teasing again. “Well I’m next, aren’t I?”

It was almost too overwhelming to contemplate. But yes, she wanted that. Ivar first but both of them together so close that they were really deflowering her both at once.

What an odd phrase: ‘deflower.’ In truth, Elise felt that she was for the first time in her life bursting into bloom.

A tension had crept into Ivar’s face, as he lay back, silently waiting for her. She leaned in on her shaky, pleasure-drenched limbs to kiss him long and hard before she moved to straddle his hips. His hands slid over her ass, kneading and grasping, pulling her closer.

Hvitserk spoke softly to Ivar again. _“Let her do it at her pace.”_

Ivar growled back without looking at him. _“No more advice now.”_

Hvitserk raised his palms and backed off the bed. “I’m getting a drink of water,” he explained to Elise, tucking his erection softly back into his trousers.

She nodded faintly, already looking back at Ivar. She understood that Hvitserk must be giving her and his brother a bit of privacy for this part. The poorly-hidden worry behind Ivar’s eyes confirmed her suspicions; now she was certain he was a virgin as well. So, they would take this forbidden step together.

Though, it didn’t see like sex outside of marriage was forbidden for Vikings. Ivar was nervous but he wasn’t ashamed. And honestly, as Elise dragged her naked body over Ivar’s, enjoying the delicious slide of skin on skin, she realized that she did not feel shame either. She had expected to feel as if the sky was cracking open, while some watchful angel shouted “sin!” at her from on high. But this just felt… natural. Like some deep part of her recognized exactly what to do, that their bodies were made for this. To come together, and to bring each other pleasure.  

Elise kissed Ivar’s mouth one last time, then brought herself up higher with a shy smile, preparing to line his cock up with her entrance.

“Are you ready?” Ivar asked, and snaked his hand up to part her folds one more time with his finger. She felt it slide easily, and a pleased rumble emanated from Ivar’s chest. “You are so wet,” he marveled.

Elise blushed a little at his crassness, but not much. She liked how she felt, liked how her body seemed so ready to welcome his. She reached down and fitted the head of his cock against herself, then sat up straighter, getting ready to press down.

Ivar’s eyes lost focus almost right away. His gaze went internal as he focused on the feeling of the head of his cock sliding against her slippery folds. It took a moment of readjusting for her to find the angle where it began to press inside.

It was a bigger stretch than she had felt before, and she made herself gasp when she pressed down too fast at first, shocking herself with the width of him. Ivar’s hands clamped around her wrists, coaxing her to keep coming down without actually forcing it. Elise rocked her hips a little, easing his passage, and Ivar’s mouth fell open at the feel of that.

There was a dull pain, that grew a little stronger the more she sank down, but it was worth it to see the bliss on Ivar’s face, especially when he opened his eyes to look up at her in wonder. “You’re so… tight, and warm… please keep going.”

She slid her hips up and down a little, not to tease him, but because it seemed to help her body adjust and welcome him. The pain intensified, then faded, and then the insides of her thighs met his hips and she realized she didn’t have to hold her weight up anymore. He was completely inside.

The fullness was strangely sublime. Ivar was looking up at her like the saints in the icons looked up at Christ, and when she moved over him again he moaned like he could barely take the joy of it.

Elise closed her eyes and let the feelings guide her. Rocking her hips back and forth felt better than side to side, and when she pulled herself up in order to slide down on him again, it felt even better. She understood why couples were always doing that humping motion now. A woman liked that kind of movement as much as a man.

And the faster she bounced, the better it felt. When she looked down at Ivar again, his eyes were screwed up tight and he was grunting in time with her hips. Such a lovely sight. She stopped, just to see his eyes fly open, just to feel that she was in control, that she was the one doing this to the once-ferocious Viking warrior.

Ivar’s hands came to her hips and he pulled her, pointedly, over him. His cock thrust into her at a different angle, a piercing that shocked her but didn’t necessarily feel bad. “Oh,” Elise exclaimed.

“Oh,” Ivar echoed, a little bit of that ferocity edging back into his face now. He liked control too. He pulled her like that again and again, building up a rhythm that had her whining in the back of her throat. She started rocking herself along to his rhythm, intensifying the depth of every stroke, and then they were both keening.

Ivar pulled her in tight with a groan, and she felt him spasm and go rigid below her. His face creased up like he was in some terrible pain, but she knew what that was now. He was coming. She was fascinated, and a little envious, as she watched him thrash his head, contort and gasp beneath her as she kept up her own pace rocking over his cock. Bits of Ivar’s lovely dark hair were stuck to his face when he finally opened his eyes again, hands pleading her to stop moving now as he came down from his bliss.

His contented little smile was so cute. Elise folded her body down so she could press another kiss to his lips. He returned it only half-heartedly in his exhaustion. Well, she had heard that men usually fell asleep after. She started to move away, toward Hvitserk, only to feel Ivar drawing her face back down toward his before their bodies could separate.

He brought his lips to her ear. “Thank you,” Ivar whispered. Probably too quiet for Hvitserk to hear. Elise beamed a private smile back down on him. “Did you… like it?”’

Elise closed her eyes and rocked her hips, still loving the feel of him inside her even as his cock began to soften. “Yes, you feel amazing,” she said without looking at him again, embarrassed to say such a wanton thing. She felt Ivar’s lips soft on her temple, then he was kissing her mouth again. Slow and sweet, and then he relaxed back with a contented hum.

Hvitserk’s footsteps approached. Elise saw Ivar’s face transform instantly, guarding himself, hiding the softness their post-coital bliss had brought out of him.

_“What if I don’t want to share her anymore?”_ Ivar growled at his brother, only slowly tearing his eyes from Elise’s face.

Hvitserk sat on the bed beside them. _“Come on, Ivar.”_ She thought she detected a note of chastisement in his voice. _“Do I have to remind you of our conversation after the last raid, when I saved your ass?”_ Elise shifted her hips to get a bit more comfortable, and Ivar’s softened cock slid silently out of her. A spill of warm fluid came trickling a moment after.

Ivar searched her eyes, then pressed her cheek with his palm. “Go to him,” he instructed, pushing her softly in his brother’s direction.

Elise rolled onto her back next to Ivar, so their shoulders and hips still touched. She didn’t want to let go of him completely just yet. Hvitserk lay down along her other side, mirroring their positions when she had first considered the possibility of ending up like this.

She was still looking at Ivar when Hvitserk traced his lips over the side of her neck, his long braid falling off his shoulder and ticking her collarbone. “Do you need a break, sweetheart?” he asked her softly. His hand was already sliding over her bare hip.

Elise’s limbs were tingling, and her sex was throbbing, still needy. “No,” she said, rolling her head toward her other suitor as she answered him. “I want you, too.”

Hvitserk’s smile beamed down at her, tinged at the edges with carnal knowledge. No blushing virgin here; Elise got the distinct sensation that he was anticipating things that she had never even imagined.

It made her want to rise to the challenge. She started with her hand on his cheek, running her thumb softly over Hvitserk’s bottom lip. He smiled at her as she stroked down the side of his neck, over and across the expanse of his chest, letting her fingers play with the curls of hair that sprouted from his breastbone.

Hvitserk’s hands scooped over her shoulders and then he leaned in to capture her lips in a kiss. His tongue pressed into her mouth boldly, and Elise let her wandering hand be just as bold, sliding over his firm abs to dive inside his trousers.

He hummed into her mouth when she found his cock, palm bumping into the head before she swiftly closed her fingers around the shaft. He had stayed hard the whole time, watching her make love to his brother. Waiting patiently for his turn. She gave him only a few soft strokes before Hvitserk paused to eagerly strip off all the rest of his clothing.

He didn’t seem to mind that Ivar was still on the bed, either. Hvitserk pressed his naked body over Elise’s eagerly, not sparing the recumbent boy a second glance. Elise, however, just had to look over at Ivar as soon as Hvitserk freed her lips, kissing down her chest and scooping her breasts in his hands.

Ivar was laying on his side now, head in his hand, lower body covered with the blanket once more. He gazed over at her, sleepy, satisfied, and thoroughly amused. She didn’t understand how he couldn’t be jealous, but the look in his eye said he had more plans for her later.

Hvitserk pulled Elise’s face back. His cock was bumping insistently against her thigh as he rolled his body over hers. He held her eyes as his hand slipped down, spreading her open for him.

That predatory cast was back in his eyes, the one that had stalked her since she first let him into her home. But it was softened now, tempered with pleasure as he ran his fingers through her slickness, brightened by eagerness as he knew he was finally about to get what he wanted.

Elise tipped her hips toward him and whimpered. The way his fingers teased awakened such a fresh desire in her that she no longer worried how wanton she might appear. And that was all the encouragement Hvitserk needed to line himself up and plunge inside.

He did not move as slowly as he had told her to go with Ivar. And since his brother’s cock had already taken her maidenhead, he didn’t have to. Hvitserk stuffed himself inside, and Elise’s swollen inner walls hugged him tight. She cried out from the intensity, but it wasn’t really pain. Or perhaps it was a pain so pleasurable she didn’t care. Hvitserk pulled back a little, then thrust back in until his balls hit and he could dive no further.

“Fuck, Elise,” he growled into her ear. “You’re so tight. And hot.” He rocked slowly, buried inside her, and made a humming noise like he was savoring the sensation.

She pressed herself up against his hips, slow and tentative. The pressure was almost too much but she liked it, started a gentle rhythm to match his, pressing him as deep into her sheath as possible.

Hvitserk groaned into her ear and then lifted up on his hands. “Are you ready?” he asked softly, eyes brimming with promise as he peered down at her.

“For what?” He was already buried inside her, what else was supposed to happen?

“This,” Hvitserk breathed with a condescending smile, then started snapping his hips hard and fast.

Ragged cries ripped from Elise’s throat, wild and free and in time to his movements. Heat was exploding through her core, like Hvitserk’s thrusting hips were the bellows at a forge. It was impossible for her to keep up but she angled her hips high, bracing herself to at least meet his every stroke.

“Do you like it like that?” Hvitserk barked down at her. She could see the raider in him now, no longer pretending to be harmless. Elise wailed her agreement. “You’re taking it so good,” he praised. “Like a Viking. A warrior. We’ll make a real shieldmaiden out of you.”

Elise grinned around clenched teeth and lifted her legs, crossing her ankles behind Hvitserk’s back, pulling him in. She liked the sound of that.

Hvitserk surprised her by wrapping both big hands around her hips and rearing up, using the hold she had around his back to pull her lower body clear of the bed and impale her against himself as he sat up on his knees. He was so deep, and she had almost no control this way. She could do nothing but hang on and ride it out, pleasure burning a new inferno through her cunt.

She wailed as Hvitserk stoked that fire until it ignited something deeper again; another orgasm scorched through her without anyone’s permission or warning. Just as it peaked, Hvitserk dropped over her on the bed, slamming himself into her with a few shuddering cries as he finished too. He panted and spasmed out the last drops of his pleasure with his teeth against her bare shoulder.

They both shuddered, locked in each other’s arms while they sucked in deep, steadying breaths. When Hvitserk finally rolled off her, Ivar’s hand was drawing Elise’s chin back in his direction.

His brilliant blue eyes danced with promises. “I hope you can still walk after that. It really is time we should all be going.”

She rolled her head back to Hvitserk, studied the joy bubbling behind his pale green eyes. “You meant it, about me coming with you?”

“Yes.” Hvitserk’s face grew more serious as he propped himself up on his elbow again. “Come see for yourself, how a Viking woman lives.” He looked around the little cabin that was all she ever knew. “It’s a lot more exciting than this farm.”

Elise’s brow creased. “Will I be a slave?” She wasn’t stupid, today’s choices aside.

Ivar and Hvitserk exchanged a look. “Technically, yes. Until one of us marries you.” They both looked down at her. “It will take some more… negotiating, to figure out which one that’s going to be.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you could, please tell me what you think, both good and constructive criticism? I'm considering reworking this into a fully original piece so I'd really like to know what to change to make it better. And what not to change ;)


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